


Team broken will (and Risa)

by orphan_account



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angel!sam (kind of), End!verse, Gen, Post lucifer trauma, disoriented sam
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-23
Updated: 2014-12-23
Packaged: 2018-02-22 06:24:32
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 10,666
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2497829
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sam never got control over lucifer. Three years later, lucifer has left and Dean finds Sam. Shit happens</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

It was a sunny day when Dean had gotten the news. The clouds were breaking apart and saying their farewells, a diverse population of birds were singing peacefully, and Dean was close to being drunk off his ass. Why were there still birds anyways? The world had ended, so why didn't these flying bitches get the memo? There was never going to be a sweet, probably obsessed with cats, old lady lounging on a park bench to feed the little punks again. And yet they sang and sang on, carefree in a summer sky unaffected by the stench of death or the ash from burning city's. "Bastards" Dean cursed under his alcohol laced breath. They didn't deserve to be chipper and have happy lives. The dumbasses who thought they could save the world were the ones who should have been screwing off, enjoying life.

Dean's inner monologue was interrupted by Chuck's shadow looming over him. Dean tilted his head up and squinted his watery eyes past the sun blocked by his head. From this point of view, Chuck almost looked like those paintings of God. Dean almost chuckled. Almost. From what he could see of the blurry, distorted man, Chuck's expression was an unnatural combination of excitement and dread. Possibly even some anxiousness judging by the wringing of his hands. "Dean, something happened" Chuck uttered in his high, incredulous voice. "Wha'is't?" Dean slurred. He could tell by the grimace that Chuck knew he had been drinking, but he didn't comment on it. Smart move.

"I-it's lucifer...he left" Chuck whispered in a rush. Dean stared at him blankly. lucifer had been terrorizing humanity for the last three years and now he's just...left? That didn't feel right. "Wha'?" Dean asked confusedly. Oh well, it was easier than explaining his thoughts with a double knotted tongue. Damn alcohol. Chuck shrugged nervously. "I don't know. I guess he was done with us. Maybe he went back to heaven?" Chuck guessed in a shaky voice. Dean's eyebrows drew together and he narrowed his eyes further at Chuck. "Wait, how do you know this?" Dean questioned, sobering up progressively. Chuck swallowed the visible lump in his throat.

"A few of our people were gathering food in a nearby city when they saw him...they hid behind an overturned car and saw him...leave. They waited about an hour just watching, making sure, before getting the hell out of there in case he came back." Dean nodded, his head pounding and barely able to follow Chuck's words. "And how do you know he didn't come back?" Dean pried him for everything he knew. "The same group went back a few hours later. No change. I think he's really gone, Dean. This might actually be over" Chuck released a hopeful, jittery laugh. Poor guy. He really thought things were gonna get better. Dean shook his head, reluctant to pop the rare bubble of joy, but it had to be done. "This ain't ever gonna be over, Chuck. The devil ended the world and it's staying ended. Almost everyone's dead and those who aren't are monsters. Nothin's fixing this. We're on our own." Dean stated gravely.

Chuck's face fell with disappointment and despair. Dean gave him a moment to put himself back together before continuing the conversation. "Think you can get that group of people to describe to me where all this went down?" Dean requested softly. Chuck nodded slowly with a knowing gaze.

\--------------------------------------------------

Dean strutted down the street, barely containing the urge to sprint and use up all of his energy. The walk to the address burned into his mind would take about two hours and they would be the longest of his life. On his back was a backpack with booze, ammo, a few granola bars, and water contained in it. He may have packed light, but he didn't plan on returning to camp, not that he told the others that. Why? He was a coward. He couldn't face them and spit into their faces that he was leaving them to burn his brother's corpse then stick a gun in his mouth. He was tired and done with this post apocalyptic hell hole. All Dean wanted was to hold Sammy's cold, lonely body and become one himself. So no, he didn't tell his friends about his dead brother and future suicide.

"Not even a goodbye?" Dean was startled by a deep, gritty voice. He spun around on his heel, shotgun leveled at the chest of a raggedy man that, back before the world ended, would have appeared homeless. He had greasy, dark hair and light blue eyes shadowed with concealed grief. "Cas" Dean breathed out in surprise. Cas grinned with such sadness he would have rather called it an upside down frown. Dean cleared his throat awkwardly and lowered the gun. Cas's eyes didn't seem to catch it, probably purposefully. "I didn't think-I mean yeah, I wasn't planning on-" Dean stumbled over his words, but was cut off by Cas. "I'm coming with you." Cas stated confidently. Dean shook his head. "No." He rejected with a strong, powerful voice.

Cas seemed to somehow manage to contort his face to resemble a kicked puppy and if Dean's heart wasn't encased in steel, it would have melted. "Why not?" He asked confusedly. Crap, how was he gonna explain this? You know what? Screw it. Honesty is the best policy. "Because I'm burying Sam then killing myself. No reason to stick around with me. You'll just be left alone." Dean stated coldly. He expected Cas to yell, tell him why he couldn't do this, try to knock some sense in him, but something he hadn't anticipated occured.

Cas shrugged nonchalantly. "Than I'll kill myself too." He said calmly and with such casualness it was almost frightening. Dean's eyes widened. "You'll what?" He asked. Cas suddenly turned serious, the last little bit of the angelic warrior peaking through the broken man and it was as refreshing as it was intimidating. "Dean, I don't care for anyone in that camp, not really. You are and have been my only true friend. If you are going down, you have no choice but to let me follow." Cas's steady voice reverberated in the air and boomed back in Dean's ears, the impact of what he was saying slamming into him full force. Dean wet his lips. "Alright. I can't stop you. Come on then" Dean clenched his jaw and turned his back on Cas, continuing down the deserted road.

"Where the hell do you think you're going?" A strong, female voice hollered at him. She strode angrily towards Dean with her hands on her hips. Great, just great. Dean didn't bother wiping the irritated look on his face as he watched her near. "Risa." He greeted emptily. "I'm leaving." He answered vaguely. Risa rolled her eyes. She halted a few feet away from Dean. "I got that, Winchester, I asked where you're going." She clarified fiercely. Dean wore a smug grin. "Disneyland" he replied sarcastically. The side of Risa's mouth twitched, but she held on to the same stone cold expression.

Dean's eyes drooped lazily, his cool facade dropping carelessly. What did a dead man have to lose? "I'm going to burn Lucifer's vessel. Spread the ashes across the country maybe. Make it a little harder for that SOB to come back." He falsified. Risa's eyes widened for a fraction of a second. "You think he's coming back?" She asked with obvious worry. Dean jutted out his bottom lip and shook his head. "Better safe than sorry though." He turned his back and continued walking. Risa sped up and walked to his side. "What are you doing?" He growled. She smirked mischievously. "This is an important mission. I'm gonna be a part of it...mostly to make sure your lame ass gets the job done." She stuck her chin out defiantly. "The more the merrier" Dean whispered darkly to himself.

\-------------------------------------------------

 

The walk had been long, awkward, and stretched with hardly bearable silence. If Risa hadn't been there, maybe Dean and Cas would have talked about Sam, reminisced about the old days before he was possessed. Maybe they would have discussed the fact that they were both about to end it. Or maybe the air still would have teemed with a noticeable lack of words. It wasn't as if him and Cas had the same relationship as before. It was a long since dead friendship that Dean would always regret letting go. "It should be just around that corner" Risa informed them while pointing around the upcoming building. Nearly every window in the skyscraper was shattered or cracked and the city was littered with gory bodies.

Some were fresh and still intact while others appeared to have been torn apart by the blood thirsty hands of the Croats. Dean also recognized that nature seemed to be reclaiming the once buzzing-with-life human civilization. Along the ground, buildings, street signs, even cars were various vines and plants creeping on them. The overgrown city had become a miserable graveyard. "Dean" Risa gripped his attention. Dean's eyes landed on her and away from the wild plants. "You coming?" She wondered with a slight hint of worry in her expression. It occurred to Dean that he had stopped walking at some point and now Risa and Cas were ahead of him, edging away from the near building.

Cas's face was solemn and his lips were pressed together as if he wanted to say something, but chose not to. Dean could tell he knew why he had stopped. They were just upon Sam's body. Dean nodded reluctantly and strode past them with false confidence. His eyes searched quickly and stopped when they landed on a white-suited body down the street. It was completely still and the features couldn't be seen, but Dean knew. Just like ripping off a bandaid, get it over with. Dean repeated the mantra as he, with Cas and Risa to both of his sides, inched his way over. With each step, the image became clearer and more dread slithered through his chest like ice. There was no questioning it, this was Sam. There were hot tears prickling in Dean's eyes, but in that moment all that existed was the motionless man laying on his back in the middle of the street.

Dean snapped his head around at the sound of Risa's lighter clicking on. She was moving towards Sam with a flickering flame in her hand. Dean jumped in front of her dramatically to intercept her path. "What the hell are you doing?" Dean demanded. Risa gave him a confused and irritated expression. "I'm burning the body. Just like you said we were gonna. This is the right one, isn't it? They said it was wearing a white suit with a red flower in the pocket." Risa explained casually. Dean shook his head frantically. "We're giving him a good old hunter's funeral." Dean said with an unwavering voice. Risa became outraged at this. "Why?! This sick fuck said yes to LUCIFER possessing him! Why does he deserve a fancy funeral?" Risa fumed even though she was tucking her lighter back in her pocket. 

Before Dean could stop himself, he was in Risa's face, his words calm and even, but his heart hammering angrily. "Listen up, bitch, this guy was innocent at one point. He was HUMAN and he deserves a little respect, got it?" Dean snarled at her. Risa straightened her back and reached her full height. "We kill Croats every day. They were once innocent, they had families, friends, pets, lives and we leave them in the streets to rot. We've NEVER given them the respect they deserve because there are too damn many of them. And you want me to get all weepy and emotional over the asshole that WILLINGLY let the devil wear his skin and destroy the world? No way in hell. Bitch." Risa backed up and crossed her arms, smugly confidant that her point was made. Dean sucked in a deep breath and fluttered his eyelids closed. "Let's just get this over with. Go with Cas to find something to carry the body in" Dean ordered with an empty lack of emotion in his voice.  
Risa pursed her lips and spun on her heel. Cas shot him a sympathetic look before they walked away.

Dean slowly made his way to Sam. He kneeled down beside him. At the sight of the blank face, the tears fell to his cheeks and ran in streams. Sam's face was splattered with blood and dirt. His hair was longer than before, looks like lucifer didn't even care to give his vessel a haircut. Dean chuckled at the thought of Sam in the back of his own mind nagging the devil to give him a trim. Then again, maybe he appreciated the new, longer length. The white suit was littered with rips and holes, but the red flower was fresh and untainted. Dean ran his fingers across the slick fabric of the suit's arm. "Sorry, Sammy" Dean whispered. It felt like it had been a lifetime since he had voiced the nickname. He gripped Sam's shoulders and hoisted the upper part of the body into his lap. He stroked his thick hair and affectionately kissed the top of his head.

Unable to restrain himself, Dean bent forward and gripped Sam in a bone crushing hug. "Sammy..." He croaked with a sob. Dean gasped for air and felt himself crumble. Cas could take care of the funeral, couldn't he? Dean reached into his waistband and brought forth his silver gun with shaky hands. "See you soon, kid" he whispered into Sam's ear. It was then that he noticed the body wasn't even cold yet, which brought on another round of sobs. When they slowed, he lifted the gun to his head, his finger ghosting the trigger. His other hand was pressing Sam's face into his shoulder. Before he could pull the trigger, the gun was yanked away from his hand. "What the hell, Winchester?!" Risa yelled incredulously. Dean looked up to see the gun dangling from her hand. 

"Give it back" Dean commanded weakly. Risa blinked at him. "So you knew him" she accused, gesturing at Sam. Her voice was softer than usual, more understanding. Cas stepped forward. "Sam Winchester was an incredible man, Risa. You would have been lucky to have known him." He said. Risa's eyes widened and her face paled slightly. "Winchester? As in-" she began. "As in my brother" Dean cut her off. Risa shook her head. "Dean, I'm sorry. I get that he was family...but he also let lucifer in." She stated, her cold glare returning. Dean stared down at Sam's empty face as he spoke. "We had a plan. He was supposed to fight lucifer for control when he said yes. Then he was gonna jump back into the cage. He was gonna sacrifice himself for the world. He was gonna go to the baddest part of hell for all eternity." Dean swallowed the lump in his throat as more tears fell. 

"But if the rumors are true, he was the one who let lucifer out in the first place" Risa hissed.. Dean shook his head. "He was manipulated by everybody. Demons, angels, everyone. He was being pushed into that since he was six months old" Dean defended angrily. For a moment there was silence. He squeezed Sam tighter, desperate to feel the cold pressure of a gun in his hand. Dean wrapped his hand around Sam's neck and breathed him in. He stopped dead, his eyes snapping open, when he felt a something throb under his hand. Dean pulled Sam away from him and laid him back on the ground. Dean gently pressed his index and middle fingers against Sam's neck. His heart sunk before he felt the faint throbbing again. "Holy shit" Dean exclaimed. "What is it?" Cas wondered. "He has a pulse...he's not dead" Dean's eyes went impossibly wide at the realization.


	2. Chapter 2

Dean cradled Sam's head in his trembling hands. The greasy strands of brown hair stuck to his calloused skin. "Sammy?" He whispered in a cracking voice. Dean couldn't have imagined the pulse. It was there. It was weak, and indefinite, but it was THERE. Sam was clinging to life by a thread and Dean couldn't breathe. Shit, he couldn't remember how to breathe. He could feel his lungs screaming out in pain, but his body wasn't functioning properly because HOLY FUCK Sam was alive. Sam's face was smooth and had the appearance of vacancy, but Dean knew the truth. There was life buried somewhere in that mind that Dean knew better than any other. Maybe it was shredded to pieces, but he would joyfully spend the rest of his existence putting Sam back together. "Sam?" He said with a slightly stronger voice. He rubbed his shaking thumb against his cheek and almost choked on a sob. It had been three years since he had laid eyes on the face that had haunted him from the back of his mind every day. 

Dean patted Sam's cheek with his palm in an attempt to rouse him. The man remained the same, as still as death. Dean frantically returned his fingers to Sam's neck. The pulse beat like an unsteady drum. He released a breath and closed his eyes. The throbbing under his skin was soothing and reassuring. He could feel his lips twitching into a half smile. Dean sniffed loudly and swallowed. "Risa, Cas, you guys get something to carry him in?" Dean asked. He turned back and the two blinked at him, startled by the sudden question. "Yes" Cas answered. He gestured with his hand to an average sized, red wheelbarrow. He glanced up at them. "You think he'll fit?" He asked hopefully. Cas pressed his lips together. "It was all we could find." He said. Dean sighed. "Alright, help me out." Dean addressed Cas. Cas nodded and hurried over. Dean lifted Sam with a grunt and swung his limp arm over his shoulder.

Cas did the same with the other arm. Together they carried Sam's weight, which seemed to have dropped immensely in those three years, and gently lowered him into the wheelbarrow. They both took a breath and stared down at the man. His arms and legs hung dangerously over the sides, but it would work for now. Dean's head was spinning, no, his mind was a hurricane of "thank you"'s and "fuck you, lucifer"'s and thoughts of the moment Sam would awake and realize his body was his again. He found himself dizzy from the whirlwind raging within him. It was too much. He had thought he would find Sam's body empty and dead. He was gonna kill himself and be done, but that couldn't happen now. He couldn't die when Sam had a pulse and a heartbeat and life. A thought suddenly occured to him. He couldn't take Sam back to camp, not when there were people there that would mutilate him for being Lucifer's vessel. "What now?" Cas asked from his side. The words were loyal and determined. Cas was gonna stay with him no matter what. Dean blinked. Everything suddenly felt unreal. It felt like a distant dream that he was detached from.

"We should...umm...take off, I guess." Dean answered without taking his eyes from Sam. Cas nodded obediently from the corner of his eye. Risa stepped forward with a creased brow and a look of confusion. "There's no way in hell you're taking him back to camp." She said with shaken confidence. Dean mentally repeated the words and experienced the sensation of rushing back to reality. His tough exterior reformed around him as an invisible shell. His chest puffed up and his shoulders squared. Risa visibly stepped back a bit, but kept her eyes boring intimidatingly into his. "You're damn right he's not going back to camp." He hissed protectively. He could practically feel himself reforming into the big brother he was raised to be. Risa narrowed her eyes like a predator and looked him up and down. "So we're burning him?" She asked with a disbelieving voice and raised eyebrows. Dean sauntered toward Risa and stepped in front of Sam. Right where he should be. "Fuck no we're not burning my brother." He spat.

Risa crossed her arms with a practiced grace that made them appear like snakes. "So what're you gonna do with him?" She asked with a slightly less piercing tone. For a moment, Dean didn't understand. He scanned her until it hit him. His face smoothed over with the realization that Risa assumed he was returning with her. "I never planned on going back to camp." He said. Risa's expression turned distraught. "What? Why wouldn't you-?" She asked as her ponytail swung to the sides with her shaking head. She suddenly looked down at his gun that was still resting in her hand and tilted her head back up to Dean. Her jaw dropped a bit and there was some emotion he couldn't identify flashing across her face. Dean swiped the gun out of her hand and she jumped. He stuffed it into his waistband. "You were planning on killing yourself the whole time." She stated pointedly. Her eyes were wider than usual. "Yeah." Dean confirmed unabashedly. 

Risa clenched her jaw and stepped away from him. Dean spun on his heel and grabbed a hold of the wheelbarrow's wooden handle. Cas immediately shuffled over and took the other. Risa eyed him grimly. Her lips were pursed like she was refraining from speaking. "Look, you've got a gun. You can get back to camp yourself." Said Dean with as little emotion as he could. Risa chewed on her lip and tapped her fingers on her arm. She spun her head around and back. She seemed to decide on something when her hands rested on her hips. Her eyes flicked down and her face revealed nervousness. "You're the closest I have to...well, anything, Winchester. So if you don't mind...I'm coming with you." She spoke the words as more of a hopeful question than a fact. Her face gained a light tint of red as she kept her eyes down bashfully. Dean raised his eyebrows. This was completely out of character for the stone cold, unmerciful Risa. For just a millisecond, Dean saw through the cracks of the hardened survivor of the apocalypse and caught a glimpse of the young woman that once had friends, went out drinking, smiled with true happiness, etc. 

Maybe before the end of the world, Dean could have had something more with her. "Risa..." Dean began slowly. "We had sex a few times. It didn't mean anything to either of us. That's it." Dean said. Risa could find a better life than following around a half suicidal, grumpy hunter, a fallen angel that turned to drugs, and whatever the hell Sam would turn out to be when he woke up. She could help people. Risa rubbed at her arm. "meaningless sex is the only connection I have with anyone still alive. Come one, Dean, it's always helpful to have an extra shooter in the group." She said with a smirk. Her features were softer than Dean had ever seen them in that moment. Dean sighed and bowed his head in defeat. Maybe she was a bit of a pain in the ass, but she WAS a damn good shot. And besides Chuck, she was his only other friend. Well maybe not friend, but someone he didn't hate. Dean glanced at Cas as if to ask if he minded and Cas shrugged with a small nod. Dean turned back to Risa. "Come on." He invited glumly. Risa shot him a thankful grin and stepped closer. She stopped and tilted her head. "Shouldn't we find out where we're going first?" She asked.

Dean had to admit, he hadn't thought of this. "We look for somewhere to crash." He answered. He got a tight hold on the wooden handle and Cas mimicked him. Dean checked on Sam. He noted that he could now see the rise and fall of Sam's chest. His mouth split into a wide grin at that. They wheeled the man down the street with Risa at their side.

\-------------------------------------------------


	3. Chapter 3

The sun was setting and Dean's hands were cramping. He had been switching back and forth with which one he used to help wheel Sam. The walk through the city had been fairly quiet, which Dean found unsettling. The constant silence was an itch that he desperately needed to scratch. "There's a bar up this street. I say we crash in the basement for the night." Dean suggested while gesturing forward with his free hand. Risa and Cas both nodded in approval. "Plus I could use a drink." He added honestly. Cas grinned widely. "So could I"." He added. It was comments like these from Cas that still managed to startle Dean. The used-to-be-angel was becoming more human every day. The three walked tiredly on the street, their footsteps were the only noise around. Dean's thoughts wandered as his feet automatically stepped in front of each other. What if Sam didn't wake up? What if he was just slowly dying and Dean was wasting his time with this? He didn't know what he would do if Sam's breathing simply thinned until his lungs no longer accepted the polluted oxygen. He could wake up tomorrow morning and Sam's body could be cold.

On another note, what would Sam be like if he did wake up? The question lingered in Dean's mind no matter how hard he tried to nudge it away. "Dean" Cas's voice lulled him from the stressful questions. "Yeah?" He replied. Cas tilted his head to point out a nearby ambulance. Dean shrugged uncomprehendingly. "What? Medical supplies?" Dean guessed. He supposed those could be useful even though if a Croat got them, they were likely history. There would be no patching up that wound. Cas's mouth twitched into a warm smile. It almost reminded him of a time when they could relax in between cases and he really got to know the man. Cas jogged to the ambulance and gestured for Risa and Dean to follow. They shared a glance and walked over to him. Cas swung open the doors and hoisted himself inside. Dean assured that Sam's wheelbarrow was balanced and he strolled to where he could see inside. The vehicle was robbed of what looked like almost all useful supplies. 

Dean's shoulders slumped. Of course it was practically empty. Cas lifted the gurney inside and rolled it off the ambulance. Dean had to refrain from slapping himself on the forehead. Why hadn't he thought of a gurney? He felt a hopeful smile spread across his face. "Cas, you're a genius." He praised with a relieved glint in his eye. Cas hopped out of the back and lifted those sad eyes to Dean. He also wore a genuine smile. It was moments like this where Dean was grateful for not being alone. As Cas rolled the gurney to them, Dean turned to Risa. Her arms were crossed and closing her off. She looked as if she was somewhat avoiding the situation. Dean understood why she was on the sidelines. She resented Sam for letting lucifer in even though he had explained why. He only hoped she would eventually change her mind about him. Sam didn't deserve to be hated. "Alright, let's do this." Dean said. Him and Cas lifted Sam onto the gurney. His body was slightly too long for it, but it beat the wheel barrow.

Dean shot Risa a chastising glare and she straightened her back. Dean and Cas each had a hand on the gurney to guide it as they made their way to the bar.

\------------------------------------

When they arrived, Dean threw as much alcohol as he could find into his back pack. With the help of Risa and Cas, they barricaded the front door by stacking the chairs against it. Maybe it wouldn't last forever, but they could use any protection they could get. Dean had a bad feeling that the Croats were waiting to make their grand entrance. Him and Cas strapped Sam tightly to the gurney and, as gently as possible, carried him down to the basement. It was mostly empty, with the exception of a few scattered cardboard boxes and a shattered bottle here and there. Risa had found a few thin blankets, so the three made their beds. Dean was undoing the straps on Sam's gurney when Cas arrived at his side. "Wouldn't it be safer to just leave him strapped to it?" Cas asked. Dean shook his head. "Maybe, but when he wakes up, I don't want him to panic from being restrained." Dean explained cooly.

Cas started undoing the leg strap. "You know there is a chance that he won't wake up, right?" Cas asked with a slightly reluctant voice. Dean's chest tightened at the words. Of course he knew Sam might not wake up, but no matter what, he would be with him again. Even if it was in death. It was both reassuring and depressing to know that Cas would follow him if it came to that. "Yeah. I know." He answered with a quiet voice. Him and Cas finished undoing the strap. Cas walked tiredly to his bed and bundled himself in the dirtied blankets. Risa was sitting cross legged on her blankets that were spread at least fifteen away from Dean's. She was toying with an old pocketknife with a bit of dried blood on it. Dean adjusted Sam's gurney so that it was closer to the ground. It squeaked and groaned as he gently pushed it down. Sam didn't even twitch. Dean scooted his makeshift bed over to be beside Sam. 

Dean laid himself down and intertwined his fingers over his chest. He stared at the ceiling and strained his ears to hear Sam's breathing. The sound was faint and undisturbed. He could feel his eyes burning with tears again. It felt almost impossible that Sam wasn't dead. It was what he had spent hours preparing himself for. He was guarded and ready to enter a forest of spikes, but he ended up suspended in an unknown space, exposed and afraid. He was still lost for what to do now. The problem was that there were two wonderful, yes, even Risa, people following him in his ignorant footsteps. He didn't feel like a leader anymore. He felt like a wild animal used to a cage being thrown back into the wild with no warning. Not having Sam took his spirit, but it made him uncaring. It was that hole in his heart that allowed him to lead the camp. Now he felt as though he couldn't even hold HIMSELF up. "What are you gonna do if he doesn't wake up?" Risa asked intrusively. Dean turned his head to see her.

She was watching him carefully and her eyes gave away how worried she was. "Go back to plan A." He responded as he turned his head straight so he could return to staring at the ceiling. "What about your friend and I?" She said. Dean's jaw clenched. "Cas already made it clear that he's following me no matter where I go..." Dean answered solemnly. The pocket knife clinked against her nails as she tapped it. She didn't comment. "What about you? What're you gonna do if Cas and I take the highway to hell?" He asked curiously. Risa snorted. "Hopefully I'll be taking the stairway to heaven, Winchester. I have nobody. I've felt alone for a long time, but I think being physically alone would finally pull the trigger." She responded relaxedly. Dean spun his head to face her. She had a sad smile playing on her lips and her eyes were still on the pocket knife. "So basically, if Sam goes down, we're all going with him." Dean stated. He was a bit shaken at the revelation that if he ended it for himself, two more people would follow. He knew he shouldn't have allowed Risa to accompany him. It was bad enough with Cas, but Dean wanted nothing more than the man to finally have peace after all he did for Dean.

Risa was a different story. She still had a life in front of her. Sure, it would be a crappy, apocalyptic life, but there was still hope for her. "If that happens, you should go back to camp. Protect people. Maybe marry Chuck or some shit." He said with a smirk. Risa howled a deep throated laugh. The sound was more cheerful, more kind than any noise he had hear her make. He had been starting to think she wasn't capable of anything such as it. His cheeks crinkled around a growing smile. "Right, Chuck. He's a nice guy, but not for me." She said. The pocket knife clunked on the hard floor. "Night, Dean." Risa said tiredly. He suddenly remembered why he had had sex with her in the first place. She was a good, kind person wrapped in a steel shield that kept her distant. Now the shield was beginning to unravel. He hoped that one day she would have someone worthy to let it drop for. Dean fell asleep with a peaceful expression. It was that of a man that knew he had friends with him, and he would be alright. Well, as long as Sam was.

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Dean woke up with a start. His shoulder was being violently tugged on. "Dean!" A deep voice yelped. Dean surfaced from the haze of sleep and snapped his eyes open. He blinked to clear his vision. Cas was looming over him with a grim, trepidatious expression. His eyes were opened wide and the sharp blue twinkled in the dark. There was too much noise. There were screams, bangs, cries, and grunts. To his side. Risa was fumbling in her backpack. She pulled out her shining hand gun. She was breathing in ragged, shallow breaths and something was clutched so tight in her hand that her knuckles were turning white. "The Croats got into the bar. There's a shit load of them, Dean. They're gonna get in." Cas said. The last few words were a sad murmur. Dean stood up and nearly fell on his ass when his head spun. He reached his hand out and steadied himself on Cas's shoulder. His lips were pressed together hard and his brow was creased. He didn't think they were gonna make it.

From the sound of it, the Croats were throwing themselves at the door. There was also a noise like some kind of weapon or tool crashing into the doorknob. Dean turned his head to Sam and felt sick to his stomach. He appeared slightly better than last night. But now he was gonna die. They were all gonna die. They were cornered. Dean clenched his eyes shut and pulled out his gun. He gripped Cas's jacket in his hand and tugged him back. He used his other hand to pull the gurney. He walked backwards slowly and put Sam behind him. He and Cas stood in front of the gurney and both held up their guns. "Risa." Dean called out calmly. Risa whipped her head to him. Her expression was wild and terrified, like a deer in headlights. He gestured for her to join them. She strode over and forced her face to become calm and closed off. She held up her gun in both of her hands and pointed it at the door like Dean and Cas. They were backed as far as possible against the wall. Their eyes were fixed on the door in a determined stare.

Risa unclenched her hand and stared fondly down at the pocket knife in it. "We won't make it, will we?" She asked in a strong voice. It was detached, almost robotic. "We can sure as hell try." Dean responded. His confidence was lacking. There were too many and no escape route. "Cas?" Dean addressed quietly. "Yes?" He said. Dean flicked his eyes to the man, who looked back. His face was pale. Dean searched for the words, but found that none fit quite right with what he wanted to say. "Thank you. For being there for me and Sam. And for being my friend." He said with his lips set in a grim line. Cas nodded and half smiled. "See you on the other side, Dean." Cas said. Dean almost laughed at how cheesy the words sounded coming from him. He turned back to get a glimpse of Sam, his last glimpse. "Jerk." He whispered as his voice cracked. He shut his eyes when the reply didn't come. A lone tear rolled down his cheek and he sucked in a breath as the sound of the door lock breaking rung in his ears.

He opened his eyes and pulled the trigger of his gun as Croats flooded the room. He went almost deaf from the three guns firing and the croat's demonic screeching. This was it. They just kept coming like a never ending wave. They didn't have enough bullets. He only hoped that where ever he went, even though hell images were already flashing through his mind, he would somehow find Sam and Cas. Who knew? Maybe by some crazy misunderstanding, he would end up in heaven. He could find Ellen, Jo, Ash, Bobby, mom, dad, maybe even Jess. If Sam made it to heaven, he could be with Jess again, and that was almost enough to make him smile. The gun made a clicking noise as he pressed down on the trigger again. He desperately pressed it a few more times. Cas fired with precision and Risa shot down a Croat just as it almost reached him.

Dean reached his hand back to grip Sam's in his final moment, but it grasped nothing but air. Dean gasped as a croat's eyes burst with white light the second it touched his chest. It screamed in agony and dropped to the floor like dead weight. Dean stared in shock. He blinked and turned his eyes up to see that one by one, every croat's eyes sizzled out of the sockets with a light so bright that Dean covered his eyes. There was an angelic ringing piercing his ears. His thoughts went wild. Was there a fucking angel in the room? Dean opened his eyes. Almost every Croat was laying dead and the light was filling every corner of the room. He quickly turned around and squinted through the brightness. The first thing he noticed were the shadows of  
Huge, full wings. They were stretching across the walls exquisitely. The second thing was that they were coming from Sam. He stood with his head tilting down, and blue light burning were his hazel irises should have been.

His arms were resting at his sides, his palms facing out with his fingers splayed. The white suit with cuts and rips and blood and mud reflected the pure light. Shit, shit shit. It was lucifer. Lucifer was here and he was killing off the Croats so that he could kill Dean himself. Dean stumbled back and nearly tripped on a body. Cas and Risa were walking backwards to his sides. They were both watching Sam (lucifer). Cas wore a cold glare that contained no trace of fear, only hatred. Risa was slack jawed and looked as if she was no longer breathing. All of their guns were dropped uselessly to the floor. The light and ringing slowly began to fade. Sam's eyes returned to hazel and he fully lifted his head. His hair was still a greasy mess, his face was covered in dirt, and his expression was blank. Dean's heart sped up as he stared at the angel. Sam (lucifer) just stood there and blinked at him. He tilted his head to the side.

"Well, what are you waiting for, douche bag? Come on, kill me." Dean snapped. Seeing his brother being worn by the devil was tearing him apart. He wanted it over. He wanted to be dead. The man's brow creased and his lips fell into a slight pout. His eyes grew larger. Was the devil giving him damn puppy dog eyes? The fact that it was being used through Sam made Dean's stomach clench. The man-angel-whatever, looked down at his feet and back up. He made eye contact with Dean and gave a pained expression like when Sam was younger and he was on the verge of tears. He slowly put one foot in front of the other. His direction was aimed at Dean. He walked jerkily to him and watched his white shoes with concentration. When he was about one foot away, Dean's body tensed. This was it. Sam's arms lifted and slowly made their way to him.

Dean's heart felt like it was about to rip itself out of his chest. He mentally begged that lucifer would let Sam go after this. He just wanted his baby brother to die in peace. The man leaned closer and wrapped his arms around Dean. Dean's eyes widened in confusion. Sam's chest leaned against his and his face was being buried into Dean's shoulder. Dean jumped a bit when Sam's breath came out as a content sigh. Was lucifer fucking with him? Toying with his prey before ripping it to pieces? He jerked and attempted to pull away, but Sam whimpered and hugged him tighter. Dean held his arms at the sides. He was unsure of what to do. He swallowed and placed his shaking hands onto Sam's back. The thing was, it FELT like Sam was hugging him. Not just because it was his body, because everything about it was so Sam. He rubbed his back soothingly and Sam leaned in closer.

After a moment of utter confusion, Dean pulled apart and Sam reluctantly allowed him to. He stepped back and Sam watched him with a relieved grin. His eyes were shining with unshed tears and his lips were twitching. "Sammy?" Dean whispered incredulously. Sam's smile widened a bit and he nodded. Dean rushed towards him and wrapped his arms around his neck. This time he melted into the hug. His tears fell and seeped into the white fabric. Sam leaned his head against Dean's neck and sniffled. His chest hitched each time he did. Dean finally stepped back and turned around. He couldn't help but smile. He had his little brother back. There was no way lucifer could ever play Sam this well. It couldn't happen. Risa's face was contorted by horror, shock, and fear. She was staring at Dean with wide, frightened eyes and an open mouth. Cas seemed as though he was attempting to put the pieces to a complicated puzzle together. He kept looking from Dean to Sam.

He walked towards Cas nodding. "It's him." He said certainly. "It has to be." Cas smirked. "I know." He responded. Dean gave him a questioning look. "There was a theory that if an archangel is in a strong vessel for too long, a bit of its grace could bind itself to the human and give it angelic characteristics. Hence, the wings and power." He explained. Dean perked up. So it was true. Sam was really back. He lit up at the news. Sam shuffled to Cas and pulled him into a hug. Cas patted his back and smiled. "Welcome back, Sam." He said in his usual deep voice. They pulled apart and Sam made his way to Dean's side. He glanced nervously at Risa. "How are you doing?" Dean addressed her worriedly. She clamped her mouth shut and kept her eyes on Dean. "What the fuck is going on?" She asked hysterically. Dean put his hand on Sam's shoulder and squeezed. "Risa, this is Sam. Sam, Risa." He introduced. Sam swallowed and stepped back a bit.

He somehow managed to make himself shrink and appear vulnerable. Risa seemed to calm at the sight of him cowering from her. "How is that your brother? How would Cas even know anything about angels?" She slowly gained back her confidence as she shot the questions at him. "Because I used to be one." Cas interjected. Risa blinked at him disbelievingly and looked him up and down. Dean couldn't hold in his bark of laughter. He had so much shit to figure out, but they were all alive, Sam was awake, and Dean was happy.

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	4. Chapter 4

They had been wandering aimlessly through the city for at least two hours. They needed somewhere, preferably better protected, to call home. They scanned every building for the perfect place to stay the night or possibly longer. Sam hadn't said a word since he woke up. Dean, Cas, and Risa all had their guns resting comfortably in their hands in case some Croats decided to make an appearance. Their shoes clacked on the street as they walked toward their unknown destination. The group was bunched together with Dean in the front, sam at his side, and Risa and Cas behind them. Sam was standing so close that their shoulders were brushing each other, not that he minded a physical reminder of his brother's presence. Dean desperately wanted Sam to talk. Just one word. He had to bite his tongue to keep from allowing his thoughts to spill over and attempt to engage Sam in conversation. He wanted to wait until they had somewhere safe to stay before diving into those waters. In the moment, just having him there was enough.

"Why don't we try here?" Dean suggested while pointing his gun to a two story motel. The green outer paint was chipping away, the once lit up name was missing several letters, and there was a smeared bloody message near the main entrance. Dean looked over to see Sam's face light up with joy. His eyes shone with relief. Dean grinned at his brother's reaction. Unfavorable motels were, besides the impala, their homes. Unknowing of Sam's complete state of mind, Dean wanted him to be as comfortable as possible. Cas and Risa didn't complain, which he was thankful for. The group found a room on the top floor and cautiously kept their guns trained on the plain door. Dean grasped Sam's sleeve and gently pulled him behind himself. Sam gave him a confused, questioning look, and Dean nodded reassuringly. Cas and Risa stood at his side with their eyes locked on the center of the door. Dean pointed his gun and slowly rested his hand on the cold knob. It squeaked as he turned it.

He swung the door open and heard a crack as it slammed into the wall. Before he could react, a body was crashing into him and slapping the gun out of his hand. A face, with so much dirt and so many wounds that it was barely human looking, loomed over his and grinned wickedly with blood seeping from its split lip. Dean madly groped for his gun. The face lowered to his own and Dean reached up his hand. He dug his fingers into its filthy hair and yanked it away from him. All of this had happened within seconds and there was too much movement with the thing squirming for anyone to get a safe shot. All of a sudden, a thin hand slammed its palm onto the croat's forehead. It's eyes lit up with brilliant light and it's mouth gaped. There was an audible gasp as the light faded and the bodies' weight fully crashed into Dean. He grunted and blinked away the black spots pooling in his vision.

The pressure of the body was lifted away. Risa and Cas each had one of its arms. They pulled it over the railing and let it drop to the ground. Dean slapped his palms onto the ground and lifted himself into a standing position. He was much further from the door of their chosen motel room than he had expected. "Are you alright, Dean?" Cas asked worriedly as he stepped closer. Dean rubbed the back of his neck. "Yeah, I'm good." He answered with a gritty voice. Sam shuffled closer to him and laid his hand on his shoulder. His brow was creased and his eyes were large. Dean smirked and patted his arm. "I'm really fine, Sammy." He comforted. Dean's face dropped and his eyes narrowed. "Wait, did you-? Your angel mojo?" Dean asked. Sam nodded with pursed lips. "Uhm...thanks" he said with as sincere a grin as he could muster. To be honest, this whole angel thing freaked him out a little. In the long run, it didn't really matter as long as Sam was breathing. Hell, maybe it would be useful, it HAD just saved him. Sam's face lifted into a carefree expression and he gave Dean a relieved grin. 

The four of them entered the motel room and locked the door. The room was relatively nice for it having been the apocalypse and all. There was some graffiti on the walls, a few blood smears, a broken lamp, and two neat, king sized beds with green comforters. Dean hadn't thought through the sleeping situation. He stood and glanced back and forth between the two beds and the arm chair. Apparently noticing his dilemma, Cas stepped forward. "Sam should take a bed to rest after what he's been through. You and Risa can take the other one. I'll be fine with the arm chair." He instructed. Dean blinked at him. "No, I'LL take the chair. You can go with Risa." He corrected. He was all too used to passing out in odd places from his hunting days. Sure, beds were nice, but he would be the best off without one. Cas appeared as if he was about to argue, but Risa's commanding voice cut him off. "Knock it off, you two. I'll take the arm chair. No big deal." She said. "Risa-" Dean began, about to reject her forceful offer, but her voice overpowered his. "Consider it a thank you for letting me tag along, Winchester." Her lips pulled into a smirk, but her eyes contained a level of warmth and sincerity.

Dean reluctantly nodded. Risa dragged the chair against the wall directly across from the door and slumped into it tiredly. She dropped her raggedy backpack beside it. Cas perched on the edge of the bed closest to the door. Sam was standing in the middle of the small room staring around in wonder. Dean approached him and tugged on the white sleeve of his suit. The suit that Dean hated so much because it was lucifer's. He would be finding Sam some new clothes ASAP. Sam glanced down at Dean's hand then looked him in the eyes. Dean tilted his head towards Sam's bed. Sam walked towards it and Dean pushed his shoulders down to make him sit. Sam blinked up at him trustingly. Dean glanced over at Risa. Her eyes were shut and her chest was expanding with even, calm breaths. She appeared to be asleep. "So, uh, we should talk...about everything." Dean told him. Sam nodded once in understanding. Dean searched for the right words. "What-uhm-what do you remember?" He asked. Sam's brow creased and he gave Dean a helpless look. Dean pulled up a wooden chair that was laying on the ground and sat in it. His and Sam's knees were almost touching. He intertwined his fingers and rested his arms on his legs. "Sammy, please try to talk. Please." Dean begged.

Sam pressed his lips together and sighed in defeat. He opened his mouth and released a small croak. He cleared his throat. He looked down. His face stiffened in concentration. "D-De-Dea-" his voice was gritty and broken and sounded like it hadn't been used in months. He was cut off by a fit of coughing. He bent forward and covered his mouth with his hands. When he straightened his back, his eyes were watery. "Hurts" he expressed the word simply. His voice was scratchy. "I know. I'm sorry." Dean sympathized. Dean gestured for him to keep going. Sam swallowed and blinked. "C'dn't stop" he said grimly. Dean leaned back a bit. "Stop what?" He asked. Sam's lips twitched. "H-he-he k-kill-killed" He stuttered the words. Sam's eyes went wide and his breathing became rapid and shallow. Dean laid a hand on his shoulder and rubbed the fabric with his thumb. "You alright?" He asked with concern. Sam shook his head frantically and slapped a palm to his chest. Sam squeezed his eyes shut and the quick breathing turned to desperate whimpers. "Hey, hey, Sammy, calm down" Dean shushed him and rested both hands on the slumped shoulders. Sam clutched at the fabric over his chest and gasped for breath. Dean moved his hands up to lay on Sam's cheeks. 

"Sam!" He yelled worriedly. Shit, he was hyperventilating. Dean didn't know what to do. Was he supposed to get a bag? Dean began wildly searching for a bag around the room. Sam was panicking, and he didn't know how to help. Dean suddenly had an icy hand wrapped around his wrist. Something papery was being shoved into his hand. He looked down to see a crumpled brown bag resting in it. For a moment he didn't know how to react. He glanced up. Risa wore a business-like expression as she shoved his arm forward so that the bag was against Sam's lips. Sam opened his eyes and jerked his head away. Dean swiftly pushed it back over Sam's mouth and held his head in place. "Breathe, Sam." Dean commanded, leaving no room for argument. Sam's breaths slowed and his eyelids drooped. The bag expanded and shrunk with a crinkling sound. Sam wrapped his large hands around the end of the bag like it was his lifeline. Dean pulled his hand away and looked up. Risa was settling back into her chair comfortably.

"Risa?" Dean addressed her in awe. Risa looked at him with half irritation and half understanding. "Thanks." He put as much gratitude as he could fit info the word. Risa grinned, nodded, and draped a blanket over herself. She snuggled into it and shut her eyes. Dean sighed in relief. Sam was finally breathing normally. Dean reached up and gently pulled the bag away. Sam's eyes locked onto his hands in his lap. "What was that?" Dean asked. He bit his lip. "Was it because you were...thinking about...him?" Dean asked cautiously. Sam nodded slowly and Dean could see that he was working hard to maintain calm. "It's okay, Sam...he's really gone. Do you remember...everything?" Dean asked hesitantly. He wanted this conversation over with as soon as possible. Sam nodded more jerkily and kept his eyes down. Shit...the things Sam must have seen, must have FELT. It probably felt like he had been performing every horrific action that belonged to the devil. 

Without another word, because there were none to be said, Dean Rose from his seat and squeezed Sam in a hug. Sam trembled with poorly concealed fear. Dean patted him on the shoulder and slumped in his seat.

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The day passed in an unmemorable blur of mumbled words and stolen glances. The whole group was obviously uncomfortable with each other and their new closed quarters were not helping. Cas and Dean kept sharing looks that broke away with a lack of communication and Risa stuck to herself. All Sam knew was that the woman had helped him. Maybe getting a bag wasn't much, but it was enough to form curiosity. by the time night had fallen, Cas and Dean were comfortably resting in their separate beds. Dean had left space for Sam to fit on one side, but he remained perched on the edge. Risa was sitting up in the arm chair reading some book she had found. Sam was starting to discover the urge to communicate again and found that if he kept it up, his voice grew stronger. His mind wondered as he fidgeted with a loose button on his suit.

He didn't quite know what was wrong with him. He thought differently now. Something had happened when lucifer was inside of him, besides becoming an angel, and it had broken him. However, Dean did not know this. Sam was sure that he would figure it out eventually. It was as if he had lost any previous verbal filter he possessed and not only that, but the thoughts that slipped out didn't always seem like something the old him would have said. He hadn't exactly spoken much, but he presumed talking more would be the only way to learn more about his own mind, watching everyone around him and their reactions when he spoke. Sam gently flipped his hands over and strained his eyes to scan them. He vividly remembered blood coating them constantly. He thought by now the stuff would have seeped into his pores and become a part of him. The thing was, the blood wasn't always the same when lucifer had forced his eyes down and purposely shown him their "good work." Sometimes it was so thick and dark it looked almost black. Sometimes it was spread thin and had a deep orange tint. Either way, it was almost always smeared on or dripping from his finger tips.

Sam thought he should have been an expert on blood by now. Not that he hadn't seen plenty of blood before hand, it was just that when it was painted over your skin and drying before your eyes almost consistently for years, you should be an expert eventually, right? Maybe if things were different, if the world hadn't died at his hands, he could have become a scientist and worked with blood. He irritatedly pushed that thought away, knowing that if the world was still whole, he would have been hunting beside Dean, not becoming a scientist. Although, maybe one day he would have become a lawyer like he had originally planned. He found himself chuckling at the idea. After all that had happened, every horror he had witnessed and become, that he could have become a damn lawyer. He snorted quietly and slapped his palm to his mouth to attempt to hold in the laughter. He wasn't sure what was funny about the idea, but the giggles were rising in his chest rapidly and they were becoming harder to contain.

With a quick glance at Dean and his hand still over his mouth, Sam strode across the room and out the door. Once it clicked closed and he was several doors away, he exploded with laughter. He doubled over, an arm wrapped around his stomach, and leaned against the balcony rail. Somehow breaking through the haze, he distantly registered a door being softly closed. Unworried, he slid down the rail and fell on his ass, which only made the laughter shake him with more force. His legs stretched out in front of him and he covered his eyes with his large hand. After a minute, the giggling died down and he gasped for air. The cool breeze tingled his skin and he relished the feeling. Any feeling was practically euphoric now that it was his own. He jumped a bit when he noticed Risa standing cross-armed several feet away from him. From what he could see in the dark, her expression was one of discomfort and her body was tensed. He guessed that she didn't like him very much. "Risa" he nearly whispered. There wasn't really any point in speaking quietly after how loud he had been just a minute ago, but he felt the need to join the world in its silence. After all, it was him who had caused the silence to fall in the first place.

"What are you doing out here? It's not safe with Croats running around." Risa chastised as she shifted her weight from foot to foot. Sam gave her a look of confusion. He was part angel now. That meant the Croats couldn't hurt him, right? Or at least he could take them in a fight. So it really wasn't dangerous for him. "Not for me." He replied quietly. Risa tilted her head like she didn't understand his words. He furrowed his brow and ran the short conversation through his mind again. His features softened when he realized he had replied differently than Risa's words were said. He snickered and bit his lip. "I meant it's not dangerous for me. Sorry." He apologized as his lips twitched. Risa shot him a look he couldn't identify and nodded acceptingly. "What was so funny?" She asked. Her eyes widened and mouth parted as if she hadn't meant to make conversation with him. He couldn't help but grin at that. Maybe the old him would have been offended by the coldness, but he found it entertaining. "Lawyers." He answered. After Risa's eyes narrowing in confusion, he decided he should elaborate. "I was thinking about how if I hadn't ended the world, maybe I would have become a lawyer like I was gonna before." He offered casually. It struck him as a little odd that he could speak of ending the world so calmly. He mentally shrugged it off.

Risa's form loosened, her posture losing its stiffness. "And that was funny?" She asked disbelievingly. Sam shrugged physically this time. "I guess" he replied and returned to fiddling with the loose button. "You were gonna be a lawyer?" Risa asked. Her tone was softer this time, kinder. He looked up to see that she had inched closer and her eyes held curiosity. Sam nodded proudly and grinned. "Yeah. Went to Stanford and everything. Well, y'know, until Jess was gone. Just wasn't the same without her." He said. His smile grew at the thought of Jess. Again, he pondered how differently the old him would have reacted to that thought. He probably would have closed himself off until the image of her wispy hair being singed in the the fire had dissipated. "Gone? Where did she go?" Risa asked as she slid down the motel wall across from him. She crossed her legs and watched him intently. Sam sat forward as he replied. "Burned. On the ceiling actually. It was that damn demon. Did you know he killed my mom the same way? Talk about a one trick pony." Sam replied. He snorted at his joke.

Risa's eyes filled with sympathy as she spoke. "What beef did he have with you?" She wondered. Sam relaxed and calmly told his story. "My mom just got in the way while he was feeding me demon blood. Then he-" he was cut off by Risa leaning forward as her voice overpowered his. "He fed you demon blood? How the hell old were you?" She demanded. "Six months." Risa's face drew together in shock. "So the demons have been shitting on your life since you were just a baby? Damn. I'm sorry." She said sincerely. Sam tilted his head. "For what?" He asked patiently. Risa through her arms up. "For hating you. I...I didn't know about all this shit they out you through." She barked out a humorless laugh. "I mean, I thought you were just some random guy that lucifer plucked off the street and you said yes...but demon blood? Killing your family?" She shook her head sadly. He could see the remorse clearly and knew that she was telling the truth. "When people find out about this, most of them still hate me. Thank you." He said. It was the first words that he knew his old self would have agreed on speaking. Risa visibly lost tension as her lips stretched into a small grin. He decided he liked her.


End file.
